


holiday

by Oparu (USSJellyfish)



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Drabble Sequence, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, Undercover as Married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29733333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/USSJellyfish/pseuds/Oparu
Summary: Kat gets in trouble on a mission and her sweet, kind, caring wife, Philippa Georgiou, has to save her.
Relationships: Katrina Cornwell/Mirror Philippa Georgiou
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20
Collections: Star Trek Femslash Drabble Exchange 2021





	holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kira_katrine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kira_katrine/gifts).



> hurt comfort and fluff and kissing. All the kissing.

"Your wife is here," the guard announces, opening Kat's cell. "She made bail, you're free to go." 

Wife? Kat stands up, using the motion to hide her confusion. She got married? 

The lights in the lobby are so much brighter than her cell that her eyes ache and she has to blink. While she can't see, a small, warm, lithe body presses itself against Kat and holds her close.

Strong, slim fingers touch her chin, tilt her head down to kiss her. 

"Hello, darling." 

That voice, those lips pressing against hers. Jail would have been easier than what's coming next. 

* * *

The cover gets them out of jail, at least, but they only make it through two streets before they're in the inevitable fight in a tiny alley and Kat had no idea Philippa could even use the walls like that to fight the much taller bounty hunters, but she makes quick work of them. 

Getting involved is stupid, but one of the bounty hunters has a knife that Philippa doesn't see and Kat isn't a damsel, she can--

Until the knife's buried like hot metal in her shoulder then Philippa's rolling her eyes and holding her. 

"Oh, darling."

* * *

Kat's lost track within alleys, tiny shops and the unending throngs. The market district is packed; Philippa has to keep reminding her to smile. She's on holiday. Even though blood's running down her arm beneath the dark coat Philippa stole. 

"You're bleeding on the pavement," Philippa whispers in her ear.

"It's getting worse."

"Should have let me fight them, darling." Philippa strokes her cheek, leaning in to kiss her. 

"I didn't want you to get hurt."

"So you got hurt?"

"Why are you here?"

"To save you, my love." 

Philippa's mouth aches on hers: warm, sweet, and she could believe--

* * *

"Act drunk," Philippa whispers, wrapping her arm firmly around Kat's waist as she pulls them into a hotel. 

Kat leans against her, letting her take her weight, smiling, always smiling even though her arm throbs and she can't feel her fingers. 

Philippa smiles and drags her intoxicated wife upstairs. Philippa presses her into the wall, kissing her, and between that and her arm she's distinctly light-headed. 

"Cameras," Philippa whispers, nibbling her ear, "Stay close."

As if she'd let go of her on an alien planet with an arcane, corrupt legal system.

Kat stumbles with her into the room. 

"Darling, on the bed."

* * *

Philppa extends her arm, finding new agony. Kat groans, biting her lip and Philippa's mouth presses gently against her own. Empathy? Caring? Then the liquid fire of alcohol on her wound assaults her.

The kiss is to swallow her cry of agony.

Gasping, Kat writhes underneath her.

Philippa shifts her weight, kneeling astride her waist, holding her down on the bed until Kat can breathe again. 

"It's superficial."

"Doesn't feel that way."

"Never does."

Philippa drinks some of the strong liquor, then kisses her again. She tastes like fire. Her fingers hold the bandage in place, secure and steady.

* * *

"Here, you need your shoulder elevated." Philippa slips underneath her arm, curling into her chest and then Kat's holding her, snuggled up close. Philippa settles in, her head against Kat's chest. Her hair smells wonderful. 

Kat must be delirious. It's the only explanation. 

Philippa's breathing slows and one of her hands rests on Kat's arm and it's just cool enough in the room that the heat of Philippa's body against hers is necessary, not a desire.

Not wonderful.

Just useful.

Philippa's breathing slows, and her heartbeat is the most comforting thing on this damn planet. 

It could almost be truth.

* * *

"Admiral?" A hand touches her arm, gentle yet insistent. "We're here to rescue you."

Kat opens her eyes in the bleary grey dawn. Michael Burnham stands by the bed, with a smaller figure behind her. 

Philippa doesn't move. She has to be awake. She would have sensed them beaming in. Kat's arm is very nearly on Philippa's breasts and neither of them are really wearing much because Kat was bleeding so badly.

Philippa's hair lies all over Kat's chest, even in her mouth and even disentangling from each other is difficult. 

"Go back to sleep, darling," Philippa teases. "Too early."

* * *

The transporter whisks them up and away and Kat is lighter being on a shuttle. Amanda came with Michael, which means they needed her diplomatic credentials to get Kat off of that difficult world. 

Along with whatever Philippa used to bribe her way in, and she'd be dead, if it wasn't for the women around her. 

"Give us a moment, please."

Philippa lingers on the transporter, arms folded. "I don't do gratitude."

"I wouldn't dream--" Kat steps closer, tilts up her head and kisses her, hard and sweet.

Philippa's sigh suggests this is a hightlight of the mission. 

"Good work, darling." 


End file.
